The Manticore Rises
by BingBongBing
Summary: An alternate universe where Tywin Lannister survives Tyrion's attempted assassination. Tyrion's journey is heavily changed, and the course of the future is changed by the survival of the richest and most powerful man in Westeros.
1. No Son of Mine(Tyrion 1)

**(Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones, all works and characters are owned by George R R Martin. Please note that a large portion of this is directly quoted from the TV show, I own none of these quotes)**

Tyrion walked down the dim hallways of the Red Keep, dragging the loading mechanism of his crossbow against the floor. Time seemed to slow, made slower still by the short length that his legs strode as his boots clicked across the stone floor. He turned the corner and stood before the door of the privy.

The door seemed to protest with a long high pitched creak as Tyrion pulled it to the side. His eyes met those of a surprised Tywin. A second passed and Tywin spoke in a low, cautious voice.

"Tyrion, put down the crossbow..."

Tyrion gently lifted the crossbow to point at his father's chest, a movement that would have been less intimidating in his hands if not for the current circumstances.

"Who released you?" Tywin's voice seemed more fierce than cautious after the slight movement of the weapon.

"Your brother I expect? He always had a soft spot for you..." a moment passed and his father continued, "Hm, we'll talk in my chambers."

Tywin made to stand but Tyrion did not yield an inch. Tywin slowly lowered himself back onto the seat after catching an ironclad glare from Tyrion.

"This is how you want to speak to me, hm? Shaming your father has always given you pleasure hasn't it..."

Tyrion interrupted, "All my life you've wanted me dead."

A chill crawled up Tyrion's spine as Tywin's glare hardened. "Yes." he answered.

"But you refused to die," Tywin continued, "I respect that, you fight for what is yours. I'd never let you be executed, I wouldn't let Illyn Payne take your head. You are my blood."

"You had no right to treat me as you did all those years. I am your son, you may hate me, but that makes that no less true. I wish that you could feel even a sliver of the pain I have endured for this house in your cold heart." Tyrion finished with his lungs gasping for air after his short rant.

"Pain? You speak of your life as if I whipped you every day and night for the entirety of your time in this world. No, I made sure that you were given all the gold you could ever want, I stood by as you wasted your pathetic life whoring and drinking yourself into in early grave like our late king Robert. Do you really think you could live with being responsible for both your parents deaths?"

Something in Tyrion snapped and his body rebelled against his mind, loosing a bolt into Tywin's gut. Tywin let out a grunt of pain as his body slammed against the wall.

"You're no son of mine..." Tywin was cut off by Tyrion's low whisper.

"I have always been your son." Tyrion turned to leave, but he could swear he could make out another voice, no, the voice of his father again.

A ragged whisper pierced the air behind him, a growl from his father in his last moments, but the words were likely the strangest thing Tyrion had ever heard.

"Dragon Spawn."


	2. Blood of the Lion and Dragon(Tywin 1)

For the last few days, Tywin Lannister had been ill. He knew not what was making him ill, only that he could not defecate, worst of all was the extreme pain when he was awake. His bowels seemed to be iron when he sat on the privy, and the sight of Tyrion and his crossbow did not loosen them at all.

For the first time in quite some time, Tywin felt surprise and shock as his son loosed a bolt into his gut. The bolt seemed to make his pain magnify tenfold, the iron and wood of the bolt seeming as if it were lead. Tywin could not move, everything felt too heavy ad the pain he felt was much worse.

Tywin knew this was likely his end, and of course Tyrion, the treacherous bastard, would be the one who dealt the final blow. Tywin wanted one last jab, a last question that Tyrion would get no answer to, he called him Dragon Spawn.

Tyrion turned to him, a look of confusion upon his face. "What did you say?".

With all of his might Tywin shifted up on the wall to look Tyrion dead in the eyes. To Tyrion's dismay no words came from his mouth, only a slight mocking smirk.

"What did you say!" Tyrion shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

It seemed that the commotion alerted someone as far away voices could be heard, as well as heavy boot steps and the slight shifting of plate armor. Guards were coming, and both Tyrion and Tywin knew this.

Tyrion bolted off in the opposite direction of Tywin, dropping the crossbow in front of him. The boot steps got closer and closer. Tywin could feel the edges of unconsciousness trying to drag him in, he tried to resist as no lion died without fighting, but the darkness took him.

_Tywin's eyes bolted open. His eyes adjusted to the low torch light of a hallway he sat in. Was this the afterlife? Tywin had always been a cynical man, never truly believing in the gods, but he was somewhere._

_He stood and suddenly it dawned on him, this was Casterly Rock, he had walked these halls many times before but this area that he stood in was one he hadn't been to in years. This was where Tywin had sat when his wife, Joanna, had died giving birth._

_'Is this hell?' he found himself thinking. His thoughts were interrupted by a cry from Joanna's room. Tywin tried to open the door, but it was locked or jammed. _

_'Joanna!' the Lion of Casterly Rock roared in both rage and mourning. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them he was in her room. She lay upon the bed, barely moving and pale as milk. She gave him a weak smile that made his stone heart feel something other than pride, disappointment, or rage for the first time in years._

_Tywin walked to her, his eyes scanned her and suddenly he saw __**him**__. A child smaller than any Tywin had ever seen lay upon her lap, and he knew that this was Tyrion. So this is what he had to live through..._

_Tywin knelt down beside the bed, Joanna looked him in the eyes. The trembling voice that had haunted Tywin for decades pierced his ears._

_'Promise me Tywin, promise that you will care for him' Joanna gave the bundle that was Tyrion to him, and the moment Tywin looked down on the child he knew he was not his._

_As if having a mind of its own Tywin's voice broke through the air, 'He isn't mine, is he?'_

_Tears spilled from Joanna's eyes, 'No.' she said. Tywin's heart shattered for the second time, he had already lived through this after all. _

_He could barely keep his simmering rage under control as he snarled, 'Who is the father?'_

_Joanna's sobs ripped through Tywin's heart like a second bolt from the crossbow. _

_'Tywin, he has the blood of a lion and a dragon. He is the heir if the king's children die.'_

_So the child was a Targaryen, and if Tywin had to guess he was the son of Aerys. The boy he held was the bastard son of a mad man._

_He looked back to Joanna only to find that her eyes had gone cold. She was gone. Tywin stood and put the child on the bed. He walked his way to one of the stone walls of the castle and slammed his fist into it. Tywin ignored the pain and slid down the wall into a sitting position. he sat there a minute and stood again, walking over the the bed that held his dead wife and the newborn child._

_Tywin knelt again, this time in front of the baby._

_'Your name shall be Tyrion.' he said as he unsheathed his dagger._

_Tywin held his dagger high above Tyrion, preparing to end the dragon spawn._

_'Tyrion Hill, in the name of house Lannister, I sentence you to die.' he pulled his arms back to end the child when his eyes saw Joanna again. In his head her voice echoed in his head, Promise me you will care for him. Tywin sheathed the dagger and closed his eyes._

Back to the darkness he returned.


	3. The Lion Who Lived(Tywin 2)

(**Sorry for not updating for a bit, I've been trying to unwind after season 8 of Game of Thrones. The season sort of killed my writing mood but I have come to accept the end and have even been inspired by it, expect a new fanfiction about what happens after the last episode soon! I am also planning another fanfiction about the War of the Ninepenny kings but that may not be out in a while. That being said I will likely be taking the next two weeks to think up what I want to do for the new fics and may only have about a chapter per week. Thanks!)**

Tywin Lannister awoke upon a cold hard table. He tried to adjust his eyes to the blinding light of the room, obviously it was daylight. At the very least he had been unconscious a day, and if he had any doubts of being alive those doubts had now subsided.

Tywin could hear someone shuffling around to his left, he turned to look and realized that the pain in his body, save for the pain where the bolt had been, was gone. Tywin's eyes found a man in the robes of a maester, recognizing that it was Grand Maester Pycelle. The Maester was shifting through notes and various bottles and had something boiling to his right.

Tywin shifted his gaze to his body. He had been stripped down to all but his small clothes. The lower portion of Tywin's torso was wrapped tightly in a blood stained bandage. The wound burned, but Tywin felt that his gut was lighter and bore him less pain, perhaps Pycelle had treated the illness too.

"If you are wondering you have been asleep for about three days, my lord. Your wound was hard to treat but I am almost glad you were wounded as I found that the waste in your intestines had hardened to a stone-like consistency. I have no doubt that you were poisoned with Widow's Blood, my lord. I removed the waste and underwent an experimental procedure using the tissue of a pig's intestine to patch up your wound." Pycelle said

It was obvious that Pycelle had dropped the senile old fool act and was telling Tywin to the best of his ability what had been done. Tywin was grateful that he had been treated so quickly and efficiently but he sure wasn't going to show it.

"I changed your bandage an hour ago, but I will still need to treat it with boiled wine in order to prevent corruption, my lord." Pycelle continued.

" Do so. Why you choose to do this while I am awake rather than when I was asleep baffles me."

Pycelle brought over the boiled wine and removed Tywin's bandage. Within seconds the wine had filled the wound and Tywin fought back the urge to make any noise.

"I have prepared food for you, my lord. You will need energy if you are to heal quickly." Pycelle said after applying a clean bandage.

Pycelle walked over and grabbed a small plate. When he came back to Tywin he presented the dish. The plate had a disgusting brownish paste smeared around, not exactly the most appetizing thing that Tywin had seen.

Pycelle seemed to notice his disapproval of the food. "It is a mixture of multiple different seeds and berries, I have also laced it with milk of the poppy to help the pain. It may not be very flavorful but I cannot take the chance of the newly applied tissues in your gut being torn open by any larger obstacles."

Tywin choked down the paste and sat the plate on a table to his left. "I wish for you to prepare messengers and ravens."

"For what, my lord?" Pycelle inquired

"Send a message to my men and the dockyards. Also send messages to all lords of the realm. Tell the dockyards to prepare ships, tell my men to prepare to board said ships. Put out a bounty on my son, Tyrion. I want him alive."

"Why prepare ships, my lord, if you do not mind me asking?"

"If I know my son's mind as well as I think I do, I know he is not stupid enough to remain in Westeros. I will attempt to find him personally, in Essos."

The Lion of Casterly Rock swung his legs over the side of the table and stood tall.


End file.
